Shadows
by Dreams2Paper11
Summary: While out on a mission, Robin gets hit on the head, hard. Now, dealing with memory loss and running from the Titans, what will he do when Slade stumbles upon him? How will Robin make the right choices when he doesn't even know who he was before?
1. Chapter 1

**I AM ALIVE! **

**Gosh, I really feel terrible, you guys. I've left you hanging for my other stories. I'm so sorry! I've just had a TON of crappy stuff going on in my life, and I haven't been able to find much time to write.**

**Onto this story.**

**Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not sure if I will update this regularly. This fic is more of a stress relief. Also, this is NOT a slash, okay?**

**By the way, this story takes place after all Things Change. So basically, all the episodes have happened already, okay? Lastly, I now have a beta! Give it up for…Dropwing!**

**She really is amazing. Really.**

**Ahem, anyway, enjoy!**

Chapter 1

My head throbbed rhythmically, and my sluggish heartbeat reverberated throughout my aching skull. My eyelids felt warm and puffy, and my face felt flushed and feverishly warm.

Something…sticky was pressed against my eyes. When my lids fluttered open slightly, I could feel my eyelashes brush against fabric.

A high keening sound echoed in my ears, and I wondered vaguely if it was a side effect from my massive headache or an outside noise.

The shrill sound slowly began to fade, like the noise of a machine powering down. As the sound faded, my senses began to return to me. I was laying on something cold, hard, and smooth. Probably tile or linoleum. My clothes felt tight, but at the same time, flexible enough to allow for a wide range of movement and durable enough to withstand a couple good hits. They fit snugly, like a second skin. My feet were stuffed into heavy boots, and when my leg twitched slightly, something scraped against the floor-metal, maybe?

…Weird.

Every inch of my body pulsed in dull, achy pain. It felt like I'd been slammed with a giant mallet. I grunted softly, straining to hear anything, still unwilling to open my eyes fully. I could hear faint sounds that blurred together in a mesh of gibberish. They sounded blocked, like when you get too much water in your ears or a buildup of earwax and can't hear anything.

My eardrums popped a little and unsealed slowly, letting in more noise, adding to my splitting headache.

"Rob…fine…get Mumbo…" The sentence, spoken by a male, probably around upper teens, weaved together through my consciousness, but I was only able to catch a few words.

"Hit…pretty hard…okay?" A second voice joined, this time a female one, soft and filled with concern. I winced as the words swirled through my head while my hazy mind struggled to decipher them. I wanted to just press my hands over my ears and curl up in a fetal position until the pain left.

I felt the vibrations in the cold floor beneath my cheek as the person, or persons, I couldn't really tell, pounded away.

Silence. Blessed, sweet silence.

Eventually, the pain leeched away, and I twitched my fingers, confirming that I still had control of my muscles. I moved my arms and legs, grunted a little to make see if my ears were still working, and mentally recited math facts to ensure I was thinking straight. I was fine. A little nauseous and way dizzy, but fine.

I managed to roll over on my stomach, moaning softly in appreciation as the cooled tile pressed against my warm face. I placed my palms on the ground, flexing my fingers (they were covered in a rubbery, tight material all the way up to my elbows- gloves?) listening to the slight squeak the stretchy fabric made as it rubbed against the ground.

I pushed off the ground, lifting my upper body until I was crouched on my knees, fingers spread out on the ground for stability. A wave of horrible dizziness rolled through me and I swayed, nearly toppling over.

_Get a grip on yourself, _I growled mentally. I didn't like feeling this weak. It made me feel vulnerable, exposed.

Slowly, I forced my sticky eyelids open, then immediately slammed them shut again as light flooded through the fabric, burning my retinas. I waited a few seconds before trying again. This time, I barely opened my eyes to slits, allowing them time to adjust properly.

For a second, all I could see was the white fabric covering my eyes, and then my eyes changed focus and I could see through the material clearly.

My surroundings…didn't register in my head.

First of all, the room I was in was wide open and airy, with whitewashed walls. The floor was tiled squares of tan linoleum flecked with darker bits of brown. Rectangular glass windows were set high up into the walls, near the ceiling. Golden, warm sunlight poured from the panes, falling in strips on the floor. Thousands of dust motes swirled through the rays of light. My eyes slid to the east wall, where a circular clock, rimmed with black, was mounted on the wall. The time read 5:42. Judging by the sunlight, I could tell that it was a.m.

It was probably sometime in summer too, since the sunlight was still strong and showed no sign of waning. In winter, the sun set early. The air was also very warm and drowsy, although, whether or not that was due to the building's heating, I wasn't sure.

This place looked like a Community Center or something, with lots of room for the tan, metal fold-up chairs stacked along the walls.

I shifted slightly, intent on standing, when something popped and crackled underneath my knees. I craned my neck to look down. My eyes widened upon seeing what I was dressed in.

I wore tight spandex leggings, colored a bright green, and mid-calf, steel-toed combat boots. A heavy, unfamiliar yellow utility belt was buckled securely around my waist. My upper torso was clothed in a red, short-sleeved tunic. The short sleeves were green, the exact color of my…pants, along with the elbow length gloves that covered my hands. A yellow _R_ was pinned to my chest. I twisted slightly to look at my backside and something swished. I stared. A cape. I wore a freaking _cape_. It was midnight black and the underside was golden.

How did I get in this uniform? Why was it colored like a traffic light? My fingers reached up and gently touched the material shielding my eyes, tracing its outline. It was a mask. An eye mask.

…Why would I need a mask?

I gently pulled at the corners and winced as my skin was pulled along with it. I let it snap back into place, ignoring the throbbing now coming from the irritated skin.

So, a skin-friendly adhesive held it on. How was I supposed to get it off?

I looked around the room again and saw a pair of swinging doors in the wall opposite of me. Or rather, I saw a doorframe. The thick steel doors that lay on the floor were twisted and riddled with scorch marks. The corner of one was melted slightly. I could see wisps of smoke curling from it.

All in all, it looked like someone, or something, had gone nuts and blasted it with a supersized flamethrower. And, as if to seal the deal, a herd of demonic elephants trampled the area around it.

I took a step forward, intent on getting out of here and getting some answers, when something crackled underneath my boots again. I lifted my foot, wrinkling my eyebrows in confusion when I saw the remnants of crushed, broken plaster. I rotated, noting that I had been laying in a whole mess of the stuff. When I reached up and touched my hair, (it was very stiff and spiky- gelled?) the white powder fell from the strands. My eyes traveled upwards. The wall I was closest to, about two yards away, was in bad shape. Deep cracks spider-webbed along it, branching out like tree roots and splitting the plaster. In the center of the crack radius, all of the paint had been smashed away, suggesting that that was the spot where impact had occurred.

It didn't take a genius to tell that, judging by my position upon waking and the plaster coating my hair and uniform, I had been the thing hurled into the wall.

But why? What was I doing here in the first place? How did I even _get_ here?

My head throbbed again and I flinched, unable to stop a low groan from sliding between my clenched teeth. My fingers went to the area where the pain was the most intense- that would be my head. I could feel something slick underneath my glove, and when I pulled away, the fingers were completely covered in crimson blood.

Shoot.

I touched the wound again and bit back a scream as I pressed a little too hard on it. I took a steadying breath and measured it with my fingers. I estimated that it was around six centimeters long and about three-fourths of a centimeter wide. It started around my left eyebrow and slashed through my temple, reaching my left cheekbone. I could feel blood trickling down the side of my face, dripping off my chin and splattering on the floor.

I stumbled a little as sickening dizziness swept over me again. Blood loss. I was losing too much blood, and way too fast. My vision blurred, and the want to pass out again grew stronger, but I denied it. I couldn't fall unconscious. I didn't know how far away help was, and if I fell asleep, I might bleed out. Not to mention that whatever had done this to me might come back.

Plus, I really, really hated the thought of giving up for some reason.

I reached the cracked wall and slid down to the floor, resting my back against the damaged surface. Time to think and prioritize.

1. I was injured badly. Not only was my head splitting from pain, making coherent thought difficult, but also my right arm was twisted at a very wrong angle and my back hurt, right between my shoulder blades. I could already imagine the giant bruise blooming across the skin underneath my strange outfit.

2. I had no idea what had injured me. This meant I should seek shelter in case whatever it was decided to come back and finish off what it started.

3. As far as I could tell, there was no one nearby. No one to help.

4. My head was muzzy and spinning. As of now, I couldn't remember anything save for a few flashes of colors- black, pointed horns, or ears, a cold white stare, and a swishing cape, maybe? Then…faint, faint, loving laughter. A woman's kind, motherly voice. _"My little Robin…"_

A flash of black and orange. Pain. Yelling. Screaming. Sobbing. Something snapping. Gasps. Horrified screams. Panicked shouts.

I clenched my eyes shut and put my fists to my temples, careful to avoid the head wound. It hurt, make it stop! The sounds were flooding my brain at an unbelievable pace, they wouldn't slow!

"_...so much alike…"_

"_...still a child…"_

"_Zucco…responsible…"_

"_I'll protect you."_

"…_nothing like you!"_

"_No…"_

"_**No**__…"_

"_**NO**__!"_

An agonized wail tore itself from my numb lips as I fell sideways onto the floor, writhing, just wanting to make the pain _stop_. My brain was overloaded, and senseless, blurred images and colors flashed across the backs of my eyelids.

The second I stopped trying to remember, the pain leeched away. I lay gasping on the floor, still convulsing slightly. Tears built up in my eyes but I refused to let them fall. My heart was pumping overtime, threatening to burst out of my chest, and sweat intermingled with the blood on my head.

_What just happened?_

A small, weak chuckle escaped my mouth between gasps as I thought up another point.

5. Don't try to remember anything, or you will have a brain attack.

I think I was going delirious from blood loss.

This was so messed up.

It took a few minutes to calm my heartbeat and for the pounding ache in my head to subside. I managed to roll on my side before spazzing, hurling up my guts all over the once nice, clean floor. My stomach felt a little better after that, and most of the queasiness soon subsided.

I climbed to my feet again, using the wall as a support.

Multi-colored dots were exploding across my vision, and I wasn't aware of the fact that I was swaying until I almost tipped over and fell on the floor. I touched the ugly wound again, wondering if the blood flow had staunched at all.

It hadn't.

My fingers still came away covered in the red liquid, and it left behind a smeared, bloody handprint when I placed my hand on the wall again for support as I staggered forward.

I made it halfway across the room before a dark shadow fell across the floor. I looked up blearily, blinking the sweat and blood out of my eyes.

My jaw dropped in surprise and my eyes widened dramatically.

The strangest people I had ever seen crammed themselves through the busted doorway, bounding carelessly over the fallen steel panels as they spilled into the room.

The one most forefront and center was a tall and athletic teen, probably seventeen or eighteen, with broad shoulders and chocolate skin. His arms and legs rippled with muscle, and an easygoing smile graced his lips.

He was also half robotic.

The…robot parts of his body were mostly blue, with gray steel plating over his chest and other areas. One side of his face was metal, with an intimidating, glaring red eye that contrasted sharply with his friendly one.

My eyes slid to the next teen.

The next one was short and stick-skinny, with a little muscles mass. Next to the robotic boy, though, he looked like a twig underneath an oak tree. His skin was a smooth, grass green, with happy, sparkling eyes. Small ivory fangs poked out from underneath his upper lip. His ears were pointed and slightly elongated, drooping and perking like a dog. His hair was short, though not quite a buzz cut, and spiky. His jumpsuit was purple and black.

To the right of him, a dismally dressed teen girl _floated a few inches off the floor_. I stared in shock. Her loose, folded blue slippers hovered inches from the ground. A thick cloak colored the same deep blue shielded her body from view, clasped in the front by a large red gem, but I managed to catch a glimpse of a black leotard and golden belt inlaid with rubies slung around her waist when she moved. The hood was drawn up over her head, casting most of her face in complete shadow, but intelligent, guarded purple eyes gleamed out of the darkness.

All the way to the left, on the other side of the robot guy, was a tall, slender girl with fine, long red hair that swished softly through the air whenever she shifted slightly. Her figure was model-perfect, complimented by a costume that showed off her toned midriff, arms, and legs. Her skin was sun-kissed and deeply tanned.

No spray-tan could have produced such a natural-looking skin color.

Her eyes were large and innocent. Upon closer inspection, I noticed with surprise that her eyes were colored a dazzling, fluorescent green that sparkled like elegantly shaped emeralds. Her outfit was purple and silver themed, with a short miniskirt, thigh-length boots, and a broad silver band that encircled her upper arm.

My head pounded again, and I winced as a name floated in my subconscious. _Titans._

"Robin! You are unharmed!" The slender redhead cried out joyously, clasping her hands over her chest.

Whoa. Who gave her a caffeine shot? I hadn't noticed before, but all of her gestures were over exaggerated, as if she was trying to convey her words using her hands and body.

And who's Robin?

I twisted a little, checking to make sure that no one was behind me.

Were they talking…to me?

"How ya feeling, man? Mumbo clobbered you good with his stupid magicked ATM machine."

My pulse began to race and instinctual fear filled my being. I didn't know who they were! Why were they talking to me? _Who are they?_

The cloaked girl suddenly lowered her hood, staring at me inquisitively. "Robin? Why am I sensing…" she searched for the right words. Her voice was a continuous, soft monotone, with very little inflection. "…defensiveness from you?" She finally finished. The other teenagers looked at her curiously.

"Don't worry, dude, we all get smacked around a bit. It happens to everyone." The green kid sympathized, still grinning happily.

"Some more than others." The pale, violet-haired girl added smugly.

The green kid's smile dropped and he glared at her comically.

This felt so wrong. It was like I was intruding on a private, happy scene between a family. Or more accurately, a bickering brother and sister. I felt like running.

The redhead stepped forward, the fragments of plaster crackling underneath her boots.

"Robin…why do you not speak? What is-" Her breath suddenly caught in her throat as her already large eyes widened even further, filling with fear.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR HEAD?" She cried out, pointing a slim finger at me. I frowned as I felt another rivulet of blood trickle down my cheek. The cybernetic teen stared at me, stunned.

The green kid flailed his arms, tugging at his ears in a panic.

"He's dead! He's dying! Omigosh, what are we gonna do? What if he dies? What if he collapses? What if- oomph!" The Gothic girl, who had slapped her hand across his mouth, cut him off.

"He's not dead, idiot. He's standing right there." She glared at him, and then turned to face me.

"Robin, we really should get that checked out."

The redhead kneaded her fingers together anxiously.

"Yes, Robin, please let us assist you."

I stared wordlessly.

The silence quickly grew awkward.

The small boy rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, are you feeling okay, 'cause…"

"Who are you?" I interrupted groggily, taking an unsteady step back. Blackness was leaking into the edges of my vision. I couldn't fight it. Too much.

Before unconsciousness gripped my confused and scared mind, I saw their unfamiliar faces smear with shock. They rippled like reflections in the disturbed puddle that was my vision, and then dark paint fell into it, smothering it in blackness, and everything faded.


	2. Chapter 2

**The only excuse I have for the lateness of this chapter is the stressful ending of school, numerous summer parties, juggling my stories, and pure laziness. T_T I have failed you, I know.**

**A special thanks for the faves, alerts, and, most important of all, the reviewers: Rowin Wolfe, The Robin Girl, Titans4life, A Darker Heaven and Hell, VampireFrootloopsRule (hey you! ), ChiKa-RoXy, The strong silver flower, Theblackbook, TheNightwingfan, TSRowenwood, iheartLink, and last but not least, Sky the white dragon. I love you guys (and girls!)**

**Shadows**

**Chapter 2**

**By: Dreams2Paper11**

Unlike last time, my rise to consciousness wasn't slow or drawn out. I blame the blaring siren that startled me out of my sleep.

One moment, I was caught in a hazy mess of dreams, the kind where you feel like you're constantly flipping between different points of views, or watching yourself from various angles.

The next, my eyes snapped open and my body jolted to attention, sitting up with lightning speed as the annoying sound reverberated through the air. Awareness flooded my brain like an icy wave and adrenalin instinctively began pumping through my body, setting my nerves on fire and heightening my senses. My heartbeat pounded in my chest. I immediately looked to the side, searching for what had woken me up.

A red emergency light bolted to the wall high up near the ceiling was flashing every second, tinting the walls a light red with every dazzling flare. I merely sat there in the standard-sized bed, tangled in the layers of white sheets draped over my body, blinking in confusion. My eyelashes brushed against the mask every time I blinked. A low growl rumbled in my chest at the annoying sensation. As soon as I found some skin friendly glue remover, the mask was going in the trash. I lifted the sheets and looked down, noting with a grimace that I was still dressed in that gaudy outfit. That was going too. Someone had removed my boots and socks, and when I leaned over slightly, I could see them lined up neatly beside the leg of the bed frame. The socks were stuffed in one of the boots.

The klaxon abruptly cut off mid-wail and the flashing light died off. Somebody must have hit the snooze button, though I can hardly believe someone could possibly use that as an alarm clock.

Thankful for the sudden silence, I looked around the room I was in.

It seemed like…like a hospital room. Hospital beds, with white sheets and pillows, were lined up with their headboards against the wall. The line stretched away on my left. It seemed I had been put in the first one. My gaze drifted over them slowly, taking in the unruffled blankets, lacking any creases or folds signifying recent use. I was the sole occupant of this…medical bay. Thing. Place. Whatever.

I picked up the sheets and pushed them off, swinging my bare feet over the edge of the bed. The floor was cold against the soles of my feet and I shivered slightly, ignoring the ache building up behind my eyes. I leaned forward to stand up, only to feel a painful tugging on my arm. I looked down, just noticing the IV cord taped to my arm. The needle dipped below my skin and was held in place with thick gauze pads. I carefully peeled the tape off and pulled the needle out, suppressing a wince as it pinched my skin slightly upon exit.

My injuries had been treated. By whom, I wasn't sure. My right arm, which I knew had been terribly broken before, had been reset and securely bundled up in a cast. It felt sore, but much better than before. I stretched my good arm over my shoulder and gently fingered my back, experimentally pressing down on the skin. The bruises were completely gone. I checked my head wound next. A small square shaped wad of gauze covered it, and I had to peel off strips of medical tape before I could attempt to pull it off. It still stuck to my skin when I prodded it and I frowned a little, slowly prying it off. The thing was stiff with dried blood. I trailed my hand across the injury, identifying the small, evenly spaced bumps underneath my fingertips as stitches. I counted eight.

Two pairs of hurried footsteps sounded outside the Medical Bay, quickly approaching the door. Almost without thinking, I lay back down on the bed, turning my head so that my stitched wound, now free of the bandage, was hidden from view. I grabbed the IV tube from where it dangled beside the bed and held it in my hand, burying it underneath the covers. This way, it still looked like the IV was in my arm, only you couldn't tell for sure, since the blanket blocked where the point of entry would be.

The door rushed open smoothly with a mechanical hiss and I closed my eyes, faking sleep. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I could sense eyes on me.

"Okay, Robin's still asleep. C'mon Star, let's meet up with the others and get to the T-Car."

I searched my (short) memory, struggling to pair the squeaky, high-pitched voice with a face. An image of a small teen with light green skin and messy dark green hair came to me after a second.

"But what if he wakes up, and we are not there? What if he is confused and does something desperate and injures himself and-" The voice grew more and more panicky as she went on.

"Star, be realistic. He had some heavy injuries. It's a wonder that Rae could get rid of the bruises and fix his arm a little. You saw the head wound. Cyborg had to stitch it shut."

"Is there a sharp tip to your statement?" The feminine voice had gained a faintly impatient edge. It sounded out of place in a voice that seemed so innocent and pure.

"A tip? Wha-? Oh. You mean a point. Uh, yeah. Heh. My point is, Robin's not gonna be awake for a while."

_That's what you think._

"I…are you sure I cannot remain here and watch over him?"

The voices were moving away, accompanied by the sound of footsteps.

"Cyborg said it was Dr. Light, with some sort of new cannon thing. With Robin out of it, we're going to need all the help we-"

The door closed, cutting off the voices.

And I was alone again.

**~(^_^)~**

I tilted the chilled water bottle further up, gulping down the last icy drops with a feverish intensity. I shook the bottle a little, confirming there was nothing left, then capped it and tossed it in the stainless steel trashcan. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, but the droplets just sat on the glove's surface. I frowned and flicked them off with my other finger.

Water repellant. Neat.

I licked my lips, my thirst finally quenched. I hadn't realized how parched my throat was until I had opened the door of the towering fridge, in what I assumed to be the kitchen, and seen all the cold water bottles, filling up the shelves in the door. I'd drained two already.

I leaned my back against the kitchen counter, propping my elbows on the cool marble surface.

This place was amazing. Everything was sleek, new, and stylish, with a slight futuristic touch that I just somehow knew wasn't common in regular houses. Heck, this wasn't even a house! More likely to be some fancy mansion or something.

Sighing, I walked across the kitchen floor, my steel-toed boots scraping against the tile, and entered a large room equipped with a computer, gigantic flat screen TV, coffee table, and a huge, squishy-looking sofa. One of the walls was made entirely of thick, seemingly resilient glass. I stopped in front of it and immediately began investigating, giving it a few sturdy knocks.

_Seems pretty thick. Bulletproof glass? And I'm guessing it's one-way, too. Who would want people staring at them all day?_

I sighed, letting my forehead fall against the cool glass and wincing when my head wound throbbed. I pressed my hands against the glass.

This house, mansion, whatever, was located on an _island. _In the middle of a bay. Surrounded by an ocean. Just great.

I could see the coast of a city in the distance. Night was quickly falling over the mess of buildings, and I watched as twinkling stars bloomed across the sky. Bright, golden lights were popping on one by one, making the city seem like a fallen Christmas tree.

My gaze was dragged back down to the ocean. The water had turned black as the sun sank in the sky, but I caught the reflections of dying light bouncing off the crests of the waves that pounded the shore of the island.

How the heck was I going to get out of this place?

I collapsed on the couch with a thump, running a hand through my hair, which reminded me that I didn't even know what I looked like. A quick search in the section of the room that was the kitchen revealed a few stainless steel pots. I held up one that was particularly reflective and clean, missing the scorch marks and dings that marred the others.

My hair color was dark, the literal color of ink. Parts of it were hardened with hair gel, and I supposed it must have been spiked back at some point, but the hairdo had fallen apart and looked kind of messy. A few stiff wisps of hair hung in front of my mask. The eye mask itself had white lenses outlined in black, and it covered my eyebrows, something I thought was kind of weird. It was shaped in such a way that it looked like I had a permanent intimidating glare plastered across my face. My skin looked like it had been slightly tanned at one point, but now it just seemed to be a sickly pale white. I supposed this might have been from the blood loss or injuries I suffered. My complexion was clear and smooth, with no acne scars or large pores. My nose was a normal size, straight and the tiniest bit turned up at the end. My mouth was set in a grim, hard line. When I realized this, I tried smiling widely. It looked out of place when coupled with the glaring mask, but at least I now knew that my teeth were in good condition. I hesitated one second, then dug my fingernails under the corner of the mask, lifting it slightly. It stung, and I wondered briefly if I could rip it off like a band-aid and get the whole ordeal over with.

_But there might be a reason you're wearing a mask, _a voice reasoned in my head.

"I guess," I said, purely for the notion of hearing my voice again. It was rough and firm, not incredibly low but definitely beyond pubescent. I left the mask on my face.

I rested the pan on the counter and sighed. I looked like I was somewhere in the age group of 14-17.

Time to do some snooping. I wanted to know who I was, who those strange people were, where I was, why I was even here, and what my name was. I remembered the teenagers referring to me as "Robin", but that just sounded abnormal. Who names their kid Robin? That brought me to another question: Who were my parents? Where were they? A pang of uncertainty traveled through my heart. Were they even alive? Did I have relatives like cousins or aunts and uncles?

So many questions and no answers.

My head throbbed again and I winced, quickly recalling the explosive pain I had felt when I tried to remember something in that Community Center.

I stared at the wide doorway leading out of the main room, still thinking, then shrugged and ran lightly up the steps to it, ignoring the resulting bout of fatigue and dizziness. I wasn't sure how much time I had until the group of teens returned, so I hurried.

The first room I looked into turned out to be a spacious, clean bathroom, complete with a shower stall and tub. The second seemed to be a utility closet, filled with brooms and mops and buckets and other cleaning supplies. A couple doors away from the closet, I encountered my first room. It had the name STARFIRE printed across it in bold black letters. I pressed the green button on the computer pad near the door and the panel sprang open, granting me access.

It was girly and pink, with a circle-shaped bed. One wall seemed to be made of the same type of reinforced, one-way glass in the Main Ops. Finding nothing of interest, I tapped the button again and backed out quickly as the door clanged shut.

The rest of the rooms were also personalized. One was Spartan and brimming with futuristic technology, computers, and even a large metal table tilted upright on a stand. Another was so messy it looked like a hurricane had struck. The junk almost obscured the bunk bed in the corner. I left that one pretty quickly. The third room made me uneasy when I looked in, as if I shouldn't be there. It was dark and kind of creepy. A zigzag, thin carpet led to a bed in the shape of…a cloak's hood? Shadows bathed the room in darkness, and I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, so I left after a few seconds.

The last room was also Spartan, containing only the bare necessities. Plain bed, plain walls, plain floor, plain dresser, plain everything. Curiosity piqued, (I knew there had to be _something _unique in here, since every other room was stylized in a certain way), I opened the closet door. What I encountered was not what I was expecting at all.

Numerous uniforms lined up neatly, all exactly the same. I looked down at the outfit I was in, then up, then down, then up again. They were exactly the same.

"I'm guessing this is…my…room, then." It felt weird saying that. It was strange talking about something I owned but couldn't remember. I pushed the uniforms to the side and looked for anything else, but that was it.

A search in the desk revealed nothing but tons and tons of yellow notepads absolutely filled with notes in a tight, small scrawl. Every inch of paper was covered in writing and small sketches of labeled diagrams. I found a few round, yellow and black devices in the bottom drawer. It had a black circle on the top, with a white 'T' stamped in the middle. I turned it over a few times in my palm, then flipped it open. There was a built-in screen and microphone underneath the cover and a few small buttons. Not thinking, my thumb automatically went to the middle one and pressed it. A map of a city appeared on the screen, with five dots represented in different colors. I waited for something to explode or set off an alarm, but nothing happened. The blue dot was lit up and pulsed slightly, and when I pressed the button to the left, it grew still and the purple dot glowed. I pressed the button on the right and the purple dot ceased its movement and dimmed, allowing the blue one to start glowing again.

I pressed the center button again. A low hum filled the air and a loading screen appeared: _Calling: Cyborg. _I stared in surprise at the screen as the words appeared. Then, _Connecting to: Cyborg. Please wait. _

Oh.

Crap.

I panicked and fumbled with the device, bouncing it from hand to hand. How do I turn it off what do I do what does it mean-

"Uh…hello? Robin?" I froze and finally snatched the contraption out of the air, slowly lifting it so I could see the screen properly. The bemused face of the half-robotic teen from before met me. His eyebrows, both mechanical and normal, jumped up as far as possible when he saw me.

"Oh," I said out loud, "so that's what it does. Huh."

A communicator. Of course. I felt like slapping myself across the face repeatedly.

"Yo man, you…feeling all right? Beast Boy said you were still sleeping when we left."

Crapcrapcrap. How the heck am I supposed to respond?

In the background, I saw three people run into view; their faces alight with happiness. Well, except the cloaked one. She looked kind of bored.

"FRIEND ROBIN, HOW GLORIOUS TO SEE YOU AWAKE!"

I winced at the volume of the redhead's exclamation and held the communicator further away from my body.

The view shook violently for a second and I heard faint sounds of surprise and protest before the camera settled again and the redhead's face beamed at me. "We are on our way-"

The camera shook again as the communicator was wrenched out of her grasp.

The green kid now held it, grinning hugely. "Dude, guess what I did when Dr. Light tried to blast me, this is so cool, I-hey!"

The screen blacked for a second, but I still had the audio, and I listened to the boy cry out, "No fair Raven, you can't just take it from me like that!"

"Like you did to Starfire?" An annoyed voice replied.

The black suddenly faded, and I found myself looking straight into deep purple eyes. "You have a concussion, I had to heal the bruises on your back, fix your arm bone enough so it could repair itself naturally, and Cyborg stitched your head wound. You _should_ be in bed," She deadpanned, and I raised an eyebrow at the complete monotone she spoke in.

"I, uh-"

Once again, the camera lurched and the Gothic girl disappeared from view. The half android from before appeared a moment later.

"Sorry Rob, we were all worried. Even Raven," he glanced to the side, smirking, "but she won't admit it. How ya feeling, dude?"

The others shifted into the background, peering around the African American's broad shoulders, looking at me expectantly.

I swallowed.

"Uh…"

I snapped the communicator shut and threw it in the drawer, pushing it shut forcefully, then turned and sprinted for the door.

I _had_ to get out of here.

**~(^_^)~**

**So, kind of a filler chapter, I know . I promise, the action will pick up next chapter. The point of this one was to really get a feel for how confused poor Robbie is and how much he doesn't remember. **

**And, of course, Slade will be showing up soon…;) **

**Oh, and I'm sorry if I get any descriptions about Titans Tower wrong. I tried to wiki exactly what it looked like, but I couldn't find anything specific enough, so I had to fill in some parts.**

**Reviews are my sustenance. :3**


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